


Details

by chillontheside



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillontheside/pseuds/chillontheside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's had a bad break up, it's only naturally that he wants to drown his sorrows in (a) night(s) of wild casual sex. What he doesn't know is that he's hooking up with a guy Ashley's been trying to set him up with for months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> L. told me to go write something. That's what happens when you don't specify things :P

He is swinging lightly to the beat of the music, something blue and very alcoholic in his hand. A promise that everyone will be having too much fun to care about photographs, and cameras, and TV shows, and whatever relaxes him and he feels the anxiety slipping away. 

The party is just starting but somehow it’s already in full swing. 

Chris scans the crowd, which is primarily male and attractive. He contemplates his actions - it’s supposed to be friends-only party but how one can have so many _close, trustworthy_ friends, enough to fill the small night club? Can Chris … find someone here? Can he allow himself to dance, to _party_ like everyone else? Can he be carefree, just for one night, without any repercussions? He’s so tired of hiding, of being reticent and deliberately evasive - 

He shuts his eyes. When he reopens them, the world is different: _screw it, he is going to have fun._

*

He is on his third - or fourth - drink, in the middle of somewhere. The heat, the lights make his head swirl, and he moves from one man to another with easy grace, not because he doesn’t want to stay with only one but because his body leads him away from them into the throngs of others. His mind is surprisingly sound, but he can’t coordinate his feet and his hands and his constantly moving _everything._

He sees the bar, just two or three rows of people away from him, and he tries to make the slide of his body against others’ smoother and nicer, but he ends up stumbling and darting out of the crowd like a pathetic young drunk he is.

He would have fallen down if a strong hand didn’t catch him and steadied him.

Chris feels dizzy, the world tilting but coming back into focus. But when a voice murmurs something right into his ear, unheard over the music, Chris is dizzy in an entirely different way. He turns around and comes face to face with a gorgeous man.

“You alright?” he yells this time, and Chris understands it, nodding.

There’s something vaguely familiar about him, when he lifts his thumbs up and grins excitedly at Chris.

“Can I buy you a drink?” yells Chris back, and if possible, the man’s lips stretch into a wider grin. He nods enthusiastically and gestures at Chris’ glass and the remains of the pina colada he’s managed not to spill during his oh-so-graceful clumsy exit from the dance floor.

He starts moving to the counter, but without steady presence of bodies to support him, he staggers, and _the handsome stranger_ manages to somehow catch him again at the waist and pull Chris into his body. 

Chris’ arm goes around his back instantly, and in this weird embrace they manage to stumble right into the counter. 

As they drink, the man’s hand stays on Chris’ waist, burning through the shirt. Chris enjoys the feeling of being so close to someone: he curls into the man’s shoulder more and more, until his side is pressed to the man’s front and he can look right into his eyes. 

Chris loves the almost insignificant height difference they have. Slowly he places his hand on the small of the man’s back.

The stare aimed at him heats: it starts at Chris’ lips, takes in his shoulders and arms … Chris anticipates it being directed at his hips and his crotch… but the man’s eyes blink and Chris feels them back on his face.

“Let’s dance,” he says, and his breath ghosts over Chris’ cheek, making him shiver despite the heat. 

“Okay.”

*

Sometimes Chris wonders if one of the most useful things he’s learnt on Glee is how to move his hips in this sinful way that drives men crazy.

Only in real life Chris drops the act, all those gestures and quirks, and he’s all business. He does it very consciously, like he does everything else in his life: he thinks the angles through, he figures out when to lean in, when to stay back and put on a show. It’s what he always does, counts and estimates, so it’s most disconcerting when the man yanks him close the second they are on the dance floor.

His hands are strong on Chris’ hips. He can’t move the way he always does; he has to adjust. Chris experimentally thrusts forward, and they are pressed tightly together.

Chris gulps, feeling their growing erections lining up with each other.

They move, or dance, but it is something more intimate; if he was unsure where and in what position he would want to end this night, now he can very graphically imagine it.

Chris leans his head against the man’s shoulder and closes his eyes tightly. He lets the sensations bombard him - the slow burn of desire, the hands slipping under his shirt, sliding over his bare skin, the hips rutting against his, the hard muscles under his own hands. He opens his eyes when it gets too much and lifts his head. 

The man is looking at him through his lashes, eyes dark and intense; Chris starts to tilt his head up and move forward, when a hand on his chest stops him, “I’m Will,” says the man loudly and raises his eyebrows, waiting for Chris’ answer. _Yeah, they didn’t even know the names._

He toys with the idea of giving a false name, being someone else for just one night, but he quickly discards it. It’s _his_ night of fun, _his_ pleasure and he wants to hear _his_ name moaned, screamed and begged, and not necessarily in this order.

“Chris,” he finally replies and crashes their lips together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best one-night-stand ever.

“Where do you live? Is it far?” gasps Chris and arches his back to feel Will’s body against his own.

“Ventura,” pants Will. He wraps an arm around Chris’ waist and hitches him up, pressing against the wall.

Chris catches Will’s slightly opened lips and bites, making Will moan into his mouth. He captures the sound, kissing the other man deeply. He can’t get enough of it, he keeps leaning deeper, sucking on Will’s tongue - 

Bang! The door to the bathroom slams and something crashes into one of the stalls. Immediately, frantic groans starts, then some shuffling and an unmistakable sound of sucking.

“Damn!” swears Will quietly and leans his forehead against Chris’.

“Damn,” agrees Chris, staring into Will’s eyes. They seem brown, but the lightning is shit. They are nice, and surprisingly warm, and Will is obviously amused by the whole situation - it was a matter of minutes before he would have fallen down on the knees and sucked Chris off, but now that there is someone else doing that (and just several feet away), well, they are no longer in such a rush.

Suddenly Will moves his hands from Chris’ waist to the wall beside his head. He’s enveloping him in the warm cocoon of _man_ and _sex_ , and Chris closes his eyes for a moment. He gets to do it very rarely - let sensations decide, wash away all the doubts. He feels Will’s breath in his mouth - they are as close as they can be, without actually kissing. 

He considers carefully what he’s about to do next. He suspects that Will has no idea who Chris is or, which is more likely, doesn’t recognize him. And it’s scary and _vulnerable_ in so many ways - Chris plays out a couple of scenarios in his head: Will telling everyone he’s slept with a Glee kid, Will realizing who Chris is before the night ends and deciding not to go through with it because _Glee kid_ , Will being a serial killer - _okay, this is ridiculous._

Something tells him Will wouldn’t do any of these things. Chris usually makes good judgements, except for that one time, two years ago, but it’s not - 

“Wanna go home with me?” asks Chris in a hushed voice.

“Sure,” breathes out Will and dips down for a slow kiss.

*

Will has plastered himself to Chris’ back and is covering his neck with light kisses. “Come on, what’s taking you so long,” he mutters, biting Chris’ ear gently.

“You’re ruining my concentration,” he mumbles, fumbling with the keys. Chris swears and finally manages to open the door. 

They stumble in, giggling. Chris hardly has time to throw his keys in the bowl before Will launches himself on Chris. He kisses him, apparently intent on covering every inch of skin Chris has bared: throat, neck, chin, cheeks, lips … Chris just holds on. For once, he doesn’t have to work for it - he relishes this intimate attention that he rarely gets to enjoy. 

Will keeps kissing him keenly and deeply. Chris gives into every stroke of the tongue against his own, into every touch of their lips. It goes on for a minute or ten, he is not sure, but finally, Will pulls away, just a little bit, and asks, voice rough, “Where’s the bedroom?”

Chris nods into the direction of the stairs and grabs Will’s hand.

They climb through one flight quickly. But when they are half way up the second, Chris suddenly feels arms gripping his shoulder and turning him around. Next, Will’s lips are again on his, and he’s carefully backing Chris to the wall - into one of the windows above the stairs. 

Chris keeps fervently kissing him. He runs his hands through Will’s short hair, tugging to tilt his head for better access, dragging his tongue across Will’s lips, licking into his mouth.

Will reaches for Chris’ belt, and in a second it’s unbuckled, his jeans are unzipped and Will is sliding them down, along with his briefs. Chris’ bare ass presses back to the window, and a wave of arousal pulses through Chris. 

He wonders if the neighbours can hear. If they can see it through the darkness. If someone passes by, lifts their head and is met with a view of butt cheeks moving against the window in very obvious jerks, looking exactly like he’s being fucked, nice and hard.

Will kisses his Adam’s apple, peppering light kisses all over his collarbones, all the visible skin, and his mouth starts moving down, to where only the base of Chris’ dick is peeking from under his briefs. It’s so tempting to just fuck on the stairs, he’s always wanted to but … Will’s almost on his knees when Chris croaks, “Bedroom,” and roughly pulls him up.

On the way to the bedroom, Chris takes off his shirt, openly and unashamedly, glancing at Will over the shoulder. He demands, “Undress,” and stops at the foot of the bed, turning around just in time to see Will swiftly pulling off his shirt and throwing it on the floor beside the bed, and then unbuckling his pants and taking them off quickly. 

For a moment they stare at each other, Chris with his pants hanging indecently low, ass sticking out, and Will in his underwear in the darkness of Chris’ bedroom. Eyes raking over Will, Chris suddenly thinks that he needs to start doing something with his own abs (or lack of thereof) because _oh my god, those look absolutely sinful._

He wants to lick and taste and trail long wet kisses all over these delicious muscles and do - Will doesn’t let him finish the thought. In two steps he reaches Chris, and Chris can see his eyes for a moment and there’s a flash of heat and desire, that make something coil low in Chris’ body. In one nimble motion Will yanks Chris’ pants and briefs off. 

Chris blinks and Will’s up, kissing all over his chest, and biting his nipples, teasing, and suddenly his hand starts moving on Chris’ cock. 

Chris throws his head back and moans, his knees turning weak. He grips Will’s shoulders, as he feels Will sucking hard on the skin around his nipples, while his hands roam across Chris’ back. He pulls away and guides Chris’ head to kiss him hard, threading a hand through his hair.

Chris can feel the agonizing pressure inside of him, and he can’t take it anymore. He pulls Will’s hand away roughly and, stepping backwards and looking at him through the lashes, he asks, “Wanna fuck me?”

And that’s all he has to say before Will pushes him down and mutters while ridding himself from the boxers, “Chris, just - don’t say things like this.” And he crawls over Chris, excruciatingly slowly lowering himself and letting their bare chests touch - skin to skin, no barriers.

“What would you do if I kept on saying shit like this?”

“I’d fuck you harder,” and Will claims his lips in a bruising kiss. Chris’ hands travel up and down his back, constantly and restlessly, pressing Will closer.

But Will doesn’t give into that easily: he keeps simply kissing him, long and deep, fast and urgent, rarely pulling away, just to breath. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. When their dicks slide together, and Chris thrusts up and down, fidgeting on the bed, Will snaps. 

“Lube and condoms?” he asks in a shaky voice.

“Drawer, left, hurry,” says Chris through clenched teeth and pants, snaking his hand down and stroking his dick. 

Will is back in a flash, pulling Chris’ legs apart, lifting them and rolling a finger in extremely quickly. Chris gasps, loving the rawness of it. He squeezes his muscles, indicating that he’s more than ready, “Come on, Will, move.” Rough, jerky thrusts, in and out, and Chris is begging for more within minutes, but Will, stubborn and meticulous, still doesn’t give it to him.

Instead, he slows down and starts kissing Chris’ chest and stomach, all over, with utmost dedication and _tenderness_. Chris is writhing underneath him, completely undone. 

Suddenly, there are two fingers in him and they are once again thrusting hard and fast, and Chris doesn’t even notice the burn (even though it’s been so long); he’s on the edge, so overwhelmed that he doesn’t even care. And then the fingers slow once again and Will’s back to thorough kissing and _worshipping_ , and Chris doesn’t know how he’s still holding up - 

A third finger and a fast pace again. Chris looks at Will’s face, jaw tight in concentration. Will’s eyes are fixed on his ass, the way Chris just takes his fingers, and he wishes he could see it, too. He glances at Will’s dick, thick and heavy against his stomach, probably leaking, and he wishes they had more time to explore, to see, to watch - 

Chris whimpers as the fingers withdraw. He sees Will rolling the condom on and then - a blunt pressure, sharp and _big_ , so satisfying, and then he is being filled with the most perfect sensations. He’s swamped, surrounded, and Will’s eyes are boring into his. He leans in slowly, and then they are kissing as Will pushes inside up to the balls and starts to thrust.

The pace is similar to the one of his fingers. Sometimes it’s urgent and fast, but sometimes it almost ceases and Chris can feel every inch of Will inside of him. 

“Will - please, just - fuck!” he’s incoherent mess of words and the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of Will inside of him, of Will’s eyes, bright in the darkness, intent and wild with want.

Will readjusts them, placing Chris’ legs on his shoulders. Chris feels the change of the position immediately as pleasure flares right through him. He moans, or yells, Will’s name, and blabbers out a string of orders to _fuck, harder, right here, just do it._

Will starts and doesn’t stop: he’s restless above Chris, his muscles tense and his moves frantic and erratic. Chris reaches for his own cock and tries to jerk himself off in time with Will’s thrusts. 

It’s hard to keep up but it doesn’t take long - he comes, suddenly and messily, spasming and squeezing around a pulsing dick in his ass, and Will comes, too, seconds later with Chris’ name on his lips.

Will slumps down half on the bed, half on Chris. His hand is on the other man’s thigh, and Chris is thoughtlessly drawing circles on Will’s back when they finally come down from the high.

“That was hot,” grins Will, his head pillowed on Chris’ arm.

“Yeah, it was,” agrees Chris, smiling and threading a hand through Will’s hair. “You can stay the night, if you want to,” he suggests, not wondering, or thinking, or doubting, even for a minute, and it feels good. 

“Okay, thanks,” he says and the grin stays, bright and sunny in the middle of the night.

They clean up quickly and neither wants to take a proper shower. They curl up under the sheets pretty fast.

Chris thinks of lying and keeping still on his side of the bed, but Will rolls into his personal space unceremoniously and spoons him from behind, his hand splaying across Chris’ stomach.

Whether it’s exhaustion or the fact that he’s got a body to keep him warm during the night, Chris falls asleep surprisingly fast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mornings after...

Chris wakes up when the sun has already reached its peak and the bedroom is filled with warm yellow light. It has grown unbearably hot over the night; with a grunt he kicks off the covers, and stretches.

Something is different; he rolls away from the window and he's somehow scooted over to the left side of the bed. He eyes the rumpled sheets on the right side in confusion and then glances up at the other pillow: it is fluffed and placed carefully beside his and there is a slip of paper on it. 

Oh right, it's all coming back to him - Jon’s party, drinking, dancing, rather risky kisses in the bathroom, bringing _Will_ back here, being pressed against the window and then fucked into the bed...

He snatches the note and sits up against the headboard.

It says,

_Chris,  
thanks for a great night! xo  
Will_

Chris frowns. He is ... disappointed which is probably not the most accurate way to describe what he's feeling. Silly, he knows, but he was kind of hoping to get a fake number, at least. But all he's got is a dull headache and a sore ass. _Well, not entirely bad though_ , he concedes and slides out of bed.

It’s ridiculous to look for something serious in a hook-up, Chris huffs, picking up his shirt and boxers from the floor and throwing them into the laundry.

Besides, there is always that guy Ashley’s been talking about for the past few weeks. She says the guy is hot and smart, and Chris can _probably_ give it a try.

He grimaces. Does he _really_ want a boyfriend so badly that he needs Ashley's help? God knows, she's got tons of hot gay friends, but this can turn out to be pretty awkward. Besides, Chris is still dubious about the genuineness of this sudden desire to be romantically _seriously_ involved with someone. It could be just a particular kind of hormones, called _everyone in his life is suddenly so fucking in love._

Chris hops into the shower, ignoring his usually strict post one-night-stand routine. He’s already broken it: brought the guy home, let him spend the night (even suggested it, his dick definitely _reigned_ last night), didn’t make sure he left after waking up. Chris lets the hot water wash away the kisses and the sweat, and any sort of lingering feelings.

Fuck the routine. 

Will seems a decent guy, and Jon’s promise (made with a wink though) that “man, it's friends-only, relax” is still fresh in his mind, and _friends_ would know not to blabber – besides, Will obviously didn't care or had no idea who Chris was. Absolutely _no_ reason to worry.

When he gets out of the shower the note is still on the bed. With an inward sigh, he glances at the text once more before tossing it into one of the drawers of his desk. 

Whatever. Better make use of the rest of the Sunday: finish a chapter, think about that new idea for a script, or try to make Brian lose some more weight. 

*

Jane perches on his table and waves a hand in front of his computer - a poor attempt to divert his attention to her, "Hey, Willy, what's up?"

He sighs and continues typing without even glancing at her. "Working."

"Don't be so boring, come on." She taps on his shoulder when he doesn't reply. "Willy," she grumbles, bending down to him and whispering, "At least tell me who was the Saturday's lucky guy?"

Will rolls his eyes, "Don't you have work to do? That doesn't involve gossip?"

"Nope," she says cheerfully and nudges him. "Come on."

Will doesn't react, still focused on the screen, "Why do you assume I hooked up with anyone?" He clicks on the send and finally looks up at her. "Are you cataloguing all the guys I sleep with?"

"No, dumbass, I’m just making sure you _are_ getting over your jerk of an ex-boyfriend. And the best way to do it is to - "

"to sleep around?" interrupts her Will, scrunching his face.

"Duh," she grins. "And don't make that face, I know you wholeheartedly agree. Aaaand," and she lowers her voice again, "I'm _100% sure_ that you definitely hooked up with _someone_ at the party on Saturday because you weren't hanging out miserably by the bar at the end of the night and you weren't whining to anyone drunk or unconscious enough to listen to your shit," she points out, smirking.

Will contemplates it for a moment but then the desire to brag overcomes, and, after lowering his voice, he says, "I went home with Chris."

"The dirty blond one? Oh yeah, he's a hot piece of ass. I bet you pounded him - oh wait, maybe he did the pounding," she wiggles her eyebrows.

Will frowns, "I don't think he was blond, he has more of a chestnut - "

Jane blinks and frowns back, "Wait, you mean Sam's friend? Isn't he like getting married or something?" 

"No-no! _‘My’_ Chris," starts explaining Will, "was a little shorter than me, with this high thick hair, looks kind of young, blue eyes, I think, didn't really have a chance to look at them for too long and it was dark -"

"Wait, you fucked Chris Colfer?" asks Jane, eyes narrow and suspicious. "No way, I don't believe you," she shakes her head incredulously.

Will frowns, "But isn't Chris Colfer like super young? I mean, the guy was definitely younger than me, but he didn't look _that_ young - "

Jane pursues her lips and stares at him, calculating. "Google image him," she finally nods at his computer, crouching beside him. "I don't think I know any other Chrises from the party, and Colfer has gotten ridiculously hot and he doesn't really look as young in real life as he does on TV."

"Jane," says Will, raising an eyebrow, "I haven't seen Glee in ages."

"The more reason to look. Come on!"

Will tentatively pulls the keyboard to himself. He hopes he hasn't actually fucked Chris Colfer because that might lead to a very unfortunate series of events, involving a very scary best friend and ... the thought stays unfinished - the images load and Will's mouth falls open. He fucked Chris Colfer. He definitely fucked Chris Colfer.

"Ashley is going to fucking kill me," he mutters, slumping in his chair.

Jane giggles.

*

"So I've been telling this guy about you," Ashley ignores Chris' indignant exclamation and goes on," but he recently broke up with this guy he thought was _the love of his life_ , so just, like, drop a few hints but do not make any serious moves. I repeat - no serious moves. Indicate that you are interested but kind of do it subtly, so that when he finally passes the phase of random one night stands, he'll know that you'd, like, want to hit that in a serious way and yadda yadda and then I'll make a great speech at your wedding -"

"Ash!" Chris pinches her.

"What? You'll see, it _is_ true. You are perfect for each other, like soulmate-romantic-bullshit perfect, seriously, Colfer. I suggest you start working on your subtle flirting skills because you’re gonna need ‘em."

"But you've been telling him about me, how is that subtle?"

"Well, I just dropped hints," says Ashley matter-of-factly, "but I _did_ mention your name, and he was a bit hesitant, since you are famous and shit." Seeing Chris' face she hastens to say, "Hesitant not because you are famous but because he isn't looking for a relationship right now."

"And you are hot now, like seriously hot, when he'd see you, he'd want to hit that, too. But you just have to stay cool and flirt _a little,_ and my job is to make sure you see each other pretty regularly, well as regularly as I can with your schedule, and you should always be, like, slightly interested, but not pushy. Got it?"

Chris nods dutifully, reminding himself that he’s already agreed and why not give it a shot -

"Awesome! This Friday, my place, be there or I'll do something with your diet coke supply or those embarrassing photos I have of you. Oh, and by the way, if your future husband has his way, we'll be watching something scary and bloody, so be prepared. You can hide behind his shoulder, but no leaning in or letting him put his arm around you or rub your knee soothingly."

Chris rolls his eyes. "The things I do for you, woman."

"You're doing this for yourself, boo. And anyways, you were the one who suddenly started whining about Cuban crises and the lack of dick in your life. You could’ve just pretended to be too busy for personal life, as you used to do. Now deal with it. Besides, he can be very good for you. You two are really a match,” she smiles at him warmly before sighing, “I just hope neither of you fucks it up."


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd better put a ribbon on this surprise.

Chris opens the door with his own key. He can hear the murmur from the living room, and he’s suddenly glad that he got held up at a meeting. He can take a deep breath and slowly untie his shoes before slipping them off and placing carefully beside others. This is a much needed reprieve.

Chris is prepared - he’s practiced the skills of subtle flirting. He’s spent half of his lunch break in his trailer, trying encouraging smiles (at least he hopes they were), hopeful glances, a not so obvious shake of the ass (it's not a blatant come on but it is still _sexy_ , and he wants to be – to seem – sexy) - basically everything you can read about in teen magazines.

Chris is determined to be as good at this as he is at everything else. He knows (he’s learnt, unfortunately) that you can’t exactly compartmentalize love but since he’s taking that chance and risking his emotional stability, he can at least pretend that he has something akin to control over it.

It would be amazing if the guy turned out to be smart and someone Chris can potentially like. Ashley knows his taste in men so he's definitely bang-worthy and all kinds of handsome but personality-wise... Well, Chris has got certain expectations.

He walks in the living room and quickly, before Ashley or anyone else catches sight of him, scans the room. There is no one here whom he hasn't seen before and he wonders worriedly if the guy hasn't showed up yet.

"Aha, finally," Ashley takes his elbow and instantly starts dragging him towards the kitchen, whispering in his ear, "He's in _there,_ helping Tiff with the food, though he can't cook for shit."

Chris lets her tug him, heart beating loudly.

"Hey, Will!" she says loudly from the hall even before entering the kitchen.

Chris freezes.

"Will, this is the guy I wanted to introduce you to," and there he is, _Saturday-night_ Will with his stupid grinning face.

He stretches a hand towards Chris and says, completely nonchalant, "Nice to meet you," emphasizing the verb and widening his eyes slightly. Chris is stunned. Shocked. Astonished. Offended. _Enraged._

Ashley takes his hand and puts it into Will's, "And this is Chris." He manages to nod and finally shakes Will's hand firmly. "Nice to meet _you_ ," and tightly smiles, hoping his eyes send a clear message - _you aren't getting out of it so easily._

*

Everyone is eating and talking, Chris comes up to a few people, makes conversation, subtly glancing at Will. Every time his eyes lands on him, he can't help but look him over, linger on his hands, or shoulders ( _that are so good for holding onto_ ), or lips. It's awful.

Chris can't concentrate, his thoughts are so jumbled. He is angry at being lied to but there is also emptiness: his chance of getting a boyfriend has gone out the window. The time he's spent mulling over it has turned out to be absolutely useless.

He's trusting Ashley on this, and - well, obviously, they just _fucking_ blew it.

And it makes him incredibly self-conscious because Will didn't feel that Chris was worth taking a serious chance with - like he's only good for a one-night-stand. It's awfully degrading to be thought about in this way, and Chris resents it.

It doesn't mean though that he's going to let Will off the hook so easily. There's obviously a reason he didn't want Ashley to know they'd met. Chris is determined to learn why (and maybe use it against him).

But it takes some time - Will seems to be always surrounded by people. Finally, he is standing a bit to the side, sipping his beer. Chris squares his shoulders, plasters a polite tight-lipped smile and strides past Will, hissing, "Kitchen, now!"

Will startles but nods vigorously.

Chris doesn't have to wait long - two minutes later Will joins him, looking sheepish and guilty.

He starts speaking immediately, before even stepping in, "Before you yell at me, I have to tell you I didn't know who you were," he stops in front of Chris.

"What?" snaps Chris, not believing it for a second. _What a shitty made-up excuse._ "How's that even possible?"

Will's eyebrows shoot up, "Arrogant much, aren't you?"

Chris looks down, suddenly uncomfortable. Well. "Oh." _Awkward._

They haven't met before (not enough common friends for that) - Chris would have remembered - and it's very likely that hot gay guys don't watch Glee.

"Yeah, so I hope you aren't angry," says Will, leaning on the table behind him, an easy smile back on his face. Chris shakes his head. He isn't anymore. He is just disappointed with the way things have turned out.

"Anyways, so we totally screwed up Ashley's plan so we've gotta decide what we're gonna do about it."

"Yeah," agrees Chris, sighing, "she's gonna do something nasty to us."

Will arches an eyebrow at him, "She won't if we don't tell her."

Chris slowly uncrosses his arms and asks, squinting at Will, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Totally," nods Will.

"Huh," Chris ponders over it. _That could work._

"I mean, it's not perfect and we would be lying to her but at the same time, you know -"

"We wouldn't want her to think she wasted her time on this," Chris gestures between them.

Will nods and asks, "So how are we gonna go about it?"

"We can pretend that we're actually giving it a shot but in a couple of weeks say that it didn't work out or something," suggests Chris.

Will frowns and studies him pensively. "Well, alright," he finally says. "And I _don't_ actually want to jump into another relationship," he sounds as if he's convincing himself but frankly it's none of Chris' business.

"So, deal?" asks Chris, stretching out a hand.

Will hums in agreement, and they shake hands. Will's is heavy and warm in his, grasping firmly. It lasts longer than it should, and when it finally ends, Chris smiles unsurely and clears his throat. "See ya out there?"

"Sure."

*

A zombie's hand reaches for a blond girl's neck and the music stops, making her shriek more startling.

Chris squeezes his eyes and covers them with a hand for good measure.

Squeezed beside him (by Ashley's intentional machinations), Will chuckles. Chris elbows him in the ribs, and his laughter grows louder.

Someone exclaims, "Shut up!"

Will leans down and whispers in his ear, "I'd apologize but your reaction is just so damn funny."

Chris shivers from Will being so close but he also wants to slap the man for making fun of him.

"Not nice," hisses Chris, eyes still shut. 

The soft music starts to play but no dialogue comes. 

"Is it safe?" asks Chris, dipping down to Will's ear. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" teases Will, nudging his leg.

Chris opens his eyes, and glares at him. He can see Will's cheeky grin, illuminated by the screen. He pointedly focuses on Will's face instead of looking at the TV.

"What?"

"I'll keep staring at you and not at the screen until you tell me what's going on there."

Will snorts. "Please do, I know my face is awesome, just enjoy it."

"You wish."

But Chris keeps staring at his dark profile, the flickering light of the screen occasionally falling on it.

He doesn't miss Will glancing at him from time to time.

A scream cuts through the silence and Chris jumps, startled, and unconsciously his eyes flick to the screen where the same blond girl from before (now with bruises on her neck) is running through the woods. Will giggles and puts his hand on Chris' knee soothingly.

"It's not even that scary," he says and squeezes.

Chris swallows. The hand on his knee feels hot through the jeans. Chris fixes his eyes on Will in a silent question.

He meets a hot dark gaze with lots of promising thngs behind it. 

Chris thinks about it. He can say yes and get laid tonight or he can say no and wallow in self-pity and eat junk food.

He nods and gently lays his hand on Will's in an even clearer yes.

_Because why not?_ They've already fucked. Ashley's plans are ruined: Chris has become one of the random hook-ups who's helped Will get over his ex. They don't have a chance to have something more - might as well enjoy it.

Will takes out his phone and types something with the right hand (his left is still intertwined with Chris'). He turns the screen towards him and there's a new open message that says, "Bedroom".

Chris blinks and watches Will stand up, motioning at the phone as if he has to take a call. Chris admires the slyness. He counts silently for 5 minutes and also stands up and makes a grimace to Ashley, who looks up at him in question. 

"Too gruesome, gonna get some air."

"Don't let the monsters snatch you," jokes Rob.

Chris flicks him off.

Will is leaning on the desk when Chris gets into the room and locks the door behind him.

"Risky."

"We're risk-takers."

"Totally," grins Chris.

He strides to Will and crowds him into the table. "We have to be quick and we can't use the bed."

"I was thinking blow jobs," says Will, voice going rougher as Chris starts tugging on his belt. 

"Awesome."

Will kisses him, rubbing against Chris' leg wedged between his. Chris presses in, hands roaming and slipping Will's pants and briefs down to his thighs. 

Will groans and reaches for Chris' belt.

Chris slaps his hands away. "Me first."

He reaches into his back pocket but comes up empty. "Shit, I left my wallet in a bag in the hall," he looks around, "do you think Ashley would mind if we borrowed hers..?"

Will bursts out laughing, openly and loudly. "Fuck, Chris," and he straightens his own pants, patting the left front pocket. He retrieves three condoms and dangles them in front of Chris. "Here, take your pick."

Chris blushes and yanks at one of them. 

"I'll take this one," he mutters and slides Will's pants even lower.

"You know it'd be more efficient if we did it 69," says Will.

"Yeah, but I'm not doing it on the floor."

Will mumbles something that resembles "prude" but at this moment Chris sinks his mouth on him, and it effectively shuts him up. He starts sucking, intending to just be fast; to get off - that's what they're doing here. But he gets distracted by little moans and gasps Will makes and the way his hips move in small jerks - he's obviously trying to stop himself from thrusting fully into Chris' mouth.

Chris licks him and plays with his balls, eyes trained on Will, watching him clutch the table top until his knuckles are white and throw his head back when Chris deepthroats him.

He comes embarrasingly fast, and Chris would tease him if they weren'r in a hurry. After gently taking off the condom and tucking Will back into his pants, Chris stands up and presses a closed-mouth kiss on Will. There's nothing more unpleasant than the taste of latex. 

Will opens his eyes and grins at him satisfied.

"Get ready to receive, Colfer," he says and yanks Chris' jeans down.

They change places quickly and Chris apparently doesn't have Will's resolve and dedication to their plan of not telling Ashley anything or keeping a secret because he buries his hands in Will's hair the second his mouth sucks on his cock. Hearing Will's appreciative hums, he angles his head and moves towards experimentally. His dick slips inside smoothly, Will's mouth pliant and accommodating.

He comes even faster than Will did and he bites on his lip to muffle the moan. 

While he's recovering, Will tidies up Chris' clothes: buckling, buttoning, smoothing the shirt down. Then he goes up to the mirror and looks himself over critically.

"You overdid it with the hair," comments Will.

"You liked it," snarks back Chris and goes to stand beside Will. "Here, let me," and he reaches to comb through Will's hair carefully, trying to make it look less like he's just given a blow job and been tugged a lot.

"What do we do with the condoms?"

Chris groans, "Gosh, we should think these things through beforehand."

Will looks around, "There are couples out there, right? I'll go back to the living room and you go throw the condoms away in the bathroom."

"Why me?"

"Because I've been away far too long for someone who's just taking a phone call. I'll go out first to make sure that the coast is clear and you just duck in the bathroom and back, ok?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," smirks Will. "I just gave you an orgasm of your life, you'd better adore me and stuff."

"Yeah, right," replies Chris sarcastically. Will lingers, lips in a wide smile, staring into Chris' eyes.

"Fucking go already," he shooes him away, waving a hand

"Yes, your majesty," and with a mocking bow Will strides out.

Left alone in Ashley's bedroom, Chris wonders whether they should feel guilty or not. Not only are they going behind Ashley's back (they fucked twice for god's sake!), but they did it once in her bedroom.

Will sneaks his head in and gives him thumbs up, "You may dispose," he whispers.

"Fuck you."

"You wanna?" teases Will, already stepping backwards. "See ya," he winks before disappearing in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the long wait!  
> I'm hoping to get the next chapter up before the New Years so if there's anyone willing to read over it/beta it for me, it'd be really lovely ;) Just comment here or send a message on tumblr (the url is the same there).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

On Saturday Ashley barges into his home with lots of pizza and treats for Brian. 

He was planning to spend the day with his computer to ward off the thoughts that had been bothering him all night. He couldn't sleep, thinking about Will and tons of different scenarios where their plan didn't work and Ashley got really angry. At some point he even considered coming clean so that he could get on with looking for a boyfriend which is scary as _fuck -_

And then he spent an hour or so imagining what having a boyfriend would feel like and the ways _it_ could go wrong which made him wrap the blankets around himself tighter.

Not one of his pleasant nights.

"Oh, boo, you did so good on Friday," says Ashley, squeezing Chris in a hug before nudging him away from the door.

“You think?” 

“I love how awkward your almost-hug was at the door. Precious. I’m thinking of including that in my best-woman speech.”

Chris shakes his head silently and follows her to the kitchen where she orders him to get soda for their Downton Abbey season 2 rewatch while she seeks out Brian and feeds him the treats.

“I thought we were starting the rewatch tomorrow?”

“Nope, I have a date,” she throws over her shoulder nonchalantly.

“Do tell,” demands Chris, surprised at the new information.

“Later,” she waves, disappearing upstairs.

Chris rolls his eyes and carries the pizzas and diet cokes into the living room. 

“So what do you think about Will?” she asks after telling him a vivid story about meeting the you-won't-believe-how-fucking-hot-he-is guy she’s seeing tomorrow.

“He seems nice. I don’t know really, we’ll see, I guess...” trails off Chris, not wanting to lie.

Ashley grimaces and pokes him. “Well, the hug was cute though. You should try talking to him more, he really has a fantastically twisted sense of humor, you’ll love it.”

Chris chews slowly on the pizza and shrugs. That's a good strategy - pretend that he doesn't care. This way he doesn't need to lie so much.

”There's a barbeque thing this weekend. You're coming. You’ll have a better chance at hitting it off there," says Ashley calculatingly. “And next week just the two of you at my place, we’re gonna watch something hilarious and just hang out, and then … ”

Chris keeps nodding dutifully, gradually tuning her out and sipping his soda. He figures they can deal with it when it comes. Now he’s just _not_ going to think about Will, or his stupid smile, or his stupid fantastically twisted sense of humor and amazing hands and the way Chris feels incredibly sexy when Will is looking at him.

*

The barbeque is weird mostly because the only people he knows there are Ashley and Will. He's seen others before and he might have even talked to them but he doesn't feel comfortable enough now.

Will is having the time of his life. He plays tag with a kid, and his shirt is unbuttoned, flapping against his chest. When he dashes past Chris, he throws him a quick grin.

His eyes follow Will. There isn’t a lot to do besides it. Ashley's Sunday date didn't go as well as she planned so she's currently charming a guy the way she usually does it - with crude jokes and passionate TV-shows discussion. It usually works for her so Chris isn't going to judge.

Will's standing on the opposite side of the patio laughing with a group of men who look vaguely familiar. They seem close, swaying into each other, ruffling hair and bumping hips and shoulders. Chris glances at them sometimes from his spot not far from the food.

Sighing, he turns away (there are limits to being creepy) and stares at the food - chips or the last piece of meat. He should probably leave the last piece to someone else - 

"Hey, Chris!" an excited voice startles him.

He veers around, "Oh Will, hi!" he says in a small voice and pursues his lips, hating the way it sounds.

"How are things?" Will shifts from one foot to another a few feet away, smiling awkwardly. 

"Fine, fine." Chris motions at the the plate - "Hey, you wanna?"

Will looks at it, "Nah, I don't usually eat the last bits at parties. Unless I'm super hungry."

"Me too but this one looks so ..."

Will looks at it wistfully, "Yeah, and I bet it's still warm." He regards it thoughtfully before suddenly his features brighten and he says, "Let's share!"

He goes around the table and gets a knife. "Here." He hands Chris a half of the piece on a paper plate. "All is fair," he winks.

Chris eats the meat with a smile, glancing at Will and meeting his eyes. "Great idea."

"I do have those sometimes. Beer?"

Will offers him a bottle. Chris doesn't really like beer but Will doesn't know this yet. 

He smiles and takes it. He feels like he's just got the attention of his high school crush and would do anything to not seem _uncool._

"Hey, come on," says Will, starting to tug at his hand.

"What? Where?" Chris gets dragged to a lot of places these days.

"Guys, this is Chris," and he's face to face with Will's friends.

They all introduce each other and it's a flurry of names Chris tries to remember but he's not very good at it. He nods and smiles and enjoys the feeling of Will's hand still lingering on his back. He notices a couple of wondering glances thrown at Will but the man doesn't seem to notice. He turns his head sideways and glances at Chris encouragingly before shifting away slightly and taking his hand off.

Chris sighs and tries to pay attention.

He can't fully participate in the conversation because he has no idea what or who they are talking about. Yet, it's nice to be included, to feel Will's hand on his shoulder and to take another beer from him and to feel their fingers graze each other.

Gradually everyone sort of gets into one group, spreading out all over the yard and the patio. The sun hasn't set and it's still warm but there are people everywhere and kids running... Chris feels a little out of his element, thinking of going home, when Will finds him again.

"Wanna get out of here?" he whispers into Chris' ear, hand firm and hot around his waist.

"Sure," he breathes out without hesitating.

They end up in someone's bathroom, with Chris pressed against the sink, rutting against Will with a vigour of a 16 year old ruled by his hormones and finally being able to get off.

He's also glad he drank those beers - Will's mouth tastes like it but it isn't as gross at all.

He cleans them up afterwards, reaching for paper towels behind him because Will can't stop mindlessly kissing his neck.

"Don't leave a mark, I'm filming on Monday."

Will hums against his skin and just licks across his collarbone one last time before pulling away.

"Me first, then you, yeah?"

Chris shakes his head. "No, me first. I'm going straight home."

Will shrugs, "Okay."

Chris is already turning the handle when he gets a crazy idea and he doesn't have time nor does he want to to think it through.

"Do you - want to exchange numbers?" he says it and immediately after it he feigns indifference, face blank. _As if it’s just out of politeness._

Will raises a brow as he reaches into his pants to fish out his phone, "Okay." 

After handing Chris back his phone, Will presses a short kiss to the corner of his lips before pushing the man out of the door.

On his way home Chris wonders if he's audacious enough to text first. He ponders over that for the rest of the weekend and wakes up with a bit of a headache on Monday morning; but the afternoon puts an end to his endless musings.

_From Will: do you have work tomorrow?_

Chris' phone buzzes when the set is being especially loud and distracting and even the carefully crafted seclusion of his writing corner doesn't help. 

_To Will: No, why?_

_From Will: Wanna get drunk tonight?_

Chris doesn't need to be asked twice.

_To Will: Text me your address._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The betaing thing still stands. If you have time for it, you can message me on tumblr (chillontheside there as well).


	6. Chapter 6

There is a bottle of bourbon that he and his ex bought together to celebrate their anniversary. They left it in Will’s liquor cabinet in early June … and two weeks later broke up. By the right of possession the bourbon ended up being Will’s. At the time he wanted it to combust or disappear but days went by and other bottles disguised this reminder of another failed relationship and Will simply forgot.

But when two months later he sets out on the cleaning spree to get rid of the things that should have been thrown away a long time ago, he comes across _the bottle_. It stands in the farthest corner, tall and proud, filled with noble amber. Will stares at it, mesmerized. He has two options: drinking it or pouring it down the toilet, both equally cathartic.

He chooses drinking because he's a cheap bastard who can't let a good whiskey go to waste.

*

"I have bourbon!" exclaims Will, swinging the door open.

"God, I wish most conversations started like this," laughs Chris, stepping in.

Will winks at him and says, "Follow me," strutting away into the kitchen.

*

They start the bottle in the kitchen and finish it in the bedroom, Chris taking the last gulp before grabbing Will and pressing their mouths together. Will's tongue opens his lips and the kiss is drunk and sloppy and they keep giggling as they slip off their clothes.

Will kisses down Chris' chest, dipping down to suck on his nipples. His knees suddenly wobble and he ends up in a hump in front of Chris, clutching his shins.

With a laugh Chris bends over and drags Will to bed. He pushes him down and crawls over him, attaching his mouth to Will’s abdomen. He takes his time, bourbon vibrating in his veins, as he bites and licks, holding Will’s hands above his head. Chris stops at his neck though and lifts his eyes, studying Will’s face, his dishevelled hair before pressing back down and claiming Will’s lips.

*

Chris taps Will's bare shoulder gently, "Will, um, I can go. I’ve sobered up, I think."

Will shifts his head to look at him, "You can stay. It's a long drive," he says softly.

Chris doesn't look away and nods, swallowing. Will wiggles down the bed and presses a short kiss to his lips.

As they kiss, Chris lazily strokes down Will's stomach where his come has already dried.

"We should clean up."

"Um, no, we shouldn't. Stay here," orders Will jokingly.

Chris shakes his head at the older man and rolls away. He brings back a warm washcloth and gently cleans them up. He goes back and forth, but instead of tight briefs stretched over his ass, Will notes his relaxed posture, hands hanging loosely at the sides and an easy smile on the face. He is so different from the guy Will asked to “get out of here” at the barbecue.

He still remembers the overwhelmed and confused expression on Chris' face. He wanted to hug _that_ guy.

He wants to fall in love with _this_ guy. He’ll do his best not to though.

Chris comes back and grabs his phone, flopping down on his stomach. Will shakes his head and yawns, glancing at Chris curiously.

"Hey, what are you doing this Friday?"

Will can guess where this is going, "Nothing that I know of."

"I have filming in the morning but my afternoon is free, so - " and Chris looks at him hopefully with a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Will is quick to reassure him, "We can hang out," wondering how Chris can go from such a confident man to an unsure boy in a matter of minutes.

Chris smiles brightly at him and puts the phone back on the nightstand. "Good."

"Sleep?" asks Will, reaching for a light switch.

"Blowjob?" asks Chris, staring at him intently.

"Go ahead," gloats Will, settling on his back and gesturing at his crotch.

"Asshole," Chris hits him lightly before sliding down Will's body.

Will winks at him.

*

"I got you a smoothie," smiles Will pushing the glass towards Ashley.

"Thanks, dude," she plops down on the chair and takes a straw. "I believe you have something to tell me.” She pauses dramatically while Will’s mind races frantically, wondering how she could know about Chris -

“Okay,” she drawls in an annoyed manner when he is silent for a minute, “I'll start then: you met Chris," she wiggles her eyebrows as Will’s heart drops to his stomach, "and found out he is really fucking hot. And..." She stares at him, waiting for him to continue.

_Oh my god. She doesn’t know._

Will takes a calming breaths and recalls his conversation with Ashley from three weeks ago (“Isn’t he really young? Like younger than you…” “He’s still hot, alright. Have you been living under a rock?”), "Okay, I agree. He is stunning," and an image of Chris naked on the bed and arching into his touch flashes through his mind.

Ashley lets go off the straw and grins devilishly, "I told you so. I saw you talking at the barbecue. This brings up another question - do you agree with anything _else_ I said?"

"Um -" _Yes, I do actually. He's amazing._ "We haven’t actually talked that much, just a few words, really general stuff," Will shrugs.

Ashley sighs in exasperation. "You two are really dumb. I should just lock you up in one room or something - "

"You can try," Will does a poor job of concealing his smirk.

Ashley interprets it as a challenge. She pinches him and snags a bit of a muffin from his plate, "Careful or that's _exactly_ what I'll do."


	7. Chapter 7

_From Ashley: I don't care what you told Cam but you *will* be there tonight. Chris is picking you up  
_

_From Ashley: Pick Will up, you're going to a party. He knows the way_

Their phones, lying beside each other on the table, buzz at the same time. Chris frowns and, exchanging glances with Will, takes off his oven glove and after reading the messages, shows the phones to Will.

  
"Huh," he chuckles, lips in a grin. "At least you don't actually have to drive to Ventura ‘cause you’re already here," says Will in a singsong voice and pecks Chris on the nose.

"Yeah but she doesn’t know that," he points out.

"We have time for more than just cookies then," wiggles his eyebrows Will.

Chris rolls his eyes with a smile and nudges the other man away from the stove. "You just want to munch on them."

"And not _only_ on them," Will's eyes sweep over Chris’ body as he slowly steps backwards, smirking in that dirty way Chris _adores_ , “I’m heading to the bedroom, you?”

Chris bends down to check dough in the oven (and it’s still just the dough cut into small circles) and surges forward, catching Will’s hand and pressing him against the counter.

*

"Hi, I'm Cam!" says a tall guy with a moustache, shaking Chris' hand.

Chris furrows his eyebrows, trying to place him and embarrassingly unable to.

"We met at the barbecue a few weeks ago," the man supplies.

Chris winces apologetically, "Oops."

"It's fine," he chuckles kindly, "you looked very confused then, I thought you wouldn't remember much."

Chris smiles thankfully at him and joins Will in the living room.

"Do you notice anything strange?" Will leans down to whisper in his ear.

Chris surveys the room, starting to shake his head, and then does a double take. His eyes widen, "Ashley is not here."

Will grins at him with a mischievous gleam and repeats, " _Ashley is not here."_

Ashley is too observant, Ashley knows them both very well; she is not here though. Chris suddenly feels ecstatic, and the night is starting to look much more fun that he’s expected. He breathes more easily and gives Will a more relaxed smile before he steers Chris toward the kitchen where _the alcohol, Chris, the best one._

The party is really lots of fun and mainly because Will gets drunk. He gets _ridiculously_ drunk. It was mostly unintentional but different drinks have different effects on people and soon Will is a bubbling hilarious entertaining mess, joking loudly and dancing to Bootylicious in the middle of the room.

Amused, Chris settles on the couch and watches Will shake his ass (or at least trying to). The crowd cheers (there aren’t really more than a dozen of people but they are loud in their enthusiasm) and strangely Chris doesn’t feel uncomfortable being in the midst of it. He's actually learnt their names and talked to all of them at least twice tonight.

Will sings along quietly, smiling absently at his friends as his hips move in a very uncoordinated way, when Cam leans over the back of the coach and asks, "Hey, Chris, you drove him here right?"

Chris nods, unable to tear his eyes away from Will, who’s smirking at him and mouthing _when I whip with my hips you slip into a trance ..._

"You'll take him back home, yeah?"

He finally looks up at the man, meeting his eyes, "Of course."

Cam smiles and pats his shoulder, "Just making sure, man."

*  
Chris grabs a bottle of water on their way back as Will leans into him, hand around his waist, whispering the dirtiest things in his ear. _I wish I could just lay you down and devour you, tie your hands and keep you on the brink until you beg and then I'll kiss you long and sweet to shut you up and when you're least expecting it I'll just push into you_

Chris quivers and his car keys rattle. He fumbles with them, hoping the other man will doze off in the car; he won't be able to keep on listening to him and stay focused on the road.

Luckily, Will does doze off during the drive. He settles in the seat on his side as Chris tightens his seatbelt for him. Will looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes, giggling occasionally. Chris has had his share of late night drives for friends who were too drunk to get home by themselves but it’s never felt so comfortable or intimate.

*  
"Chris, hey, Chris -"

"What?"

"You do know you're like really extraordinary?"

"You're drunk," dismisses Chris, dragging Will up the stairs because the goddamn elevator has stopped working _again_. But still, his heart skips a beat at the compliment and he knows the faintest of blushes is covering his cheeks.

"No I mean really, really, oopmh," Chris searches Will's pockets for the keys, startling him.

"And not just because you're fucking hot," Will recovers and goes on as Chris lets them in and locks the door behind them. "You're also unreally talented."

They stumble into the bedroom and Chris lets Will fall into the bed.

" _You_ are unreal," he says as Chris tries to tug the covers from under him. "How can you do so much?" wonders Will. "Do you have a time-turner? Because I bet you do and now you're also writing another book, a sequel," perks up Will, "and if I ask nicely you'll lemme read it ‘fore -"

Chris halts and stares at him, his hands still automatically tugging Will's socks off. "You read my book?"

"Of course and I loved it," blabbers Will. "And I watched Glee you're sooo good. And hot. And I read that your movie comes out this year or something. I really wanna see it - "

Chris kisses him hard on the mouth. He doesn't care for the taste of alcohol or for Will's sloppy hands instantly wrapping around his waist, he just wants to kiss Will and keep kissing him -

Will pulls away and yawns, flipping to the side with Chris still hovering above, "I'm beat."

Chris closes his eyes but a smile is playing on his lips. "Idiot," he mutters and undresses Will to his underwear.

When Chris makes a move to pull away, Will grabs his hand and mumbles, "Stay."

Chris chuckles and assures him, "I am staying." He sees Will nod in the dark and settle back on the pillow.

In the bathroom Chris splashes some water on his face before taking everything but his undershirt and briefs off and sliding behind Will, letting his hand fall on the other man's hip.

He listens to Will's even breathing and gradually falls asleep too, after his heart stops beating loudly from both and excitement and panic.

_Will read his book._

*

 

Chris wakes up suddenly. Will is curled up next to him, his face scrunched up in distaste but eyes are still firmly shut.

Two loud knocks on the door. Chris sighs and looks at Will who doesn't show any signs of wanting to open his eyes. Chris swings his legs off the bed and pads to the hall.

Another series of knocks.

He fumbles a little with the locks before opening the door wide.

Ashley.

"Morning, sunshi - Chris??" She halts at the threshold, mouth agape. "What are you -"

She stops mid-word and takes in his ruffled hair, sleepy eyes and underwear - Chris finally realizes he went to open another person's door wearing nothing but an undershirt and a pair of briefs -

Without a word she pushes him away and marches past him into the bedroom.

Realization slowly creeps on Chris.

She's going to see Will sleeping on one side of the bed, the pillow and sheets on the other side are rumpled and his clothes are draped over a chair -

"Ash - " he says weakly, trying to stop her but she's already back and she is terrifying.

"You fucking idiots!" she whispers, fuming and poking at his chest. "And all this - throwing it all away just like that, for a _fuck_ \- idiots," she keeps cursing and slapping Chris' arms. Then she shoves him one last time before giving him a long angry look and storms off.

Chris stands in the middle of the room for another moment. _Fuck._

First things first. He is still not awake enough to handle this as it should be handled. Chris goes to the kitchen and makes coffee. And a toast.

Waking Will up is not an easy feat but half an hour later he is sitting on the bed cross legged sipping coffee and making grateful eyes at Chris.

He seems coherent enough and Chris decides to drop the bomb. "You know what happened when you were sleeping?"

Will frowns and asks, "I snore?"

Chris laughs, "Well, you do _do_ that. But aside from that ..."

"Nope, no idea," shakes his head Will.

"Ashley came by."

It dawns slowly. And then, "Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving for three weeks and there won't be any updates at that time.  
> BUT  
> I already have the next chapter (it just needs editing) and another one is slowly coming along and I hope I'll get some time to write during this three week volunteer-stint and post them all when I return. Please bear with me :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!  
> But the fic is finished, so from now on I'll be posting a chapter a day.

They climb out of bed and hit Burger King ten minutes away from the apartment. Will eats his burger apathetically as Chris fiddles with a straw in his Diet Coke, making a grab for Will’s fries every now and then.

"I think we should talk to her today," Will breaks the silence.

"Yeah, we should," agrees Chris reluctantly, eyes on him.

"And bring some wine."

"Absolutely."

They go back to Will's place and before they leave Chris presses his lips to Will's. He's only starting to notice how easy kisses, touches and shared smiles have become. 

*

Ashley opens the door, angry posture, evil glare. Her eyes soften a little when she takes them in, standing awkwardly, shoulder to shoulder, with similar guilty expressions on their faces.

"So?" she asks, brows drawn, gaze shifting from one man to another.

"Can we- um, come in?" asks Chris and briefly glances at Will.

"I suppose," Ashley sighs through tighty pressed lips and lets them in, "You're bearing gifts, I see. Wise."

They end up perched on the coach under Ashley's scrutinizing glare. 

No one speaks. 

"Are you two dating?" she finally says.

"No."

"No," shakes his head Will. 

"Hm. Okay," she squints at them suspiciously. "Then _what_ are you doing?"

"We're - um, like – doing - "

"You can say the word, honey," she snaps, "it's called sex, Christopher, and I figured that part out. Is that all?" she asks and turns to Will, "Darling, would you be so kind to be less dense than this young gentleman over here and explain?.."

"Um we _are_ actually just doing -um things-" he says, eyes down, and Chris senses some sort of history behind that exchange.

"God, I hate you two," she whines loudly, widening her eyes.

"Okay, so," attempts Will, "we met at Jon's party a week before you introduced us, hooked up, and then we had sex again,” he shoots a glance at Chris, “and again - and that's where you found us this morning."

For a moment Ashley doesn't say anything, studying them carefully. Finally, she sighs, "I know I wouldn't want you any other way but sometimes you're just so stubborn and so fucking hard to manipulate that I don't even know why I bother."

Chris finds Will’s equally startled eyes.

She pats them on the knees and grins. "Don't fret, boys. You've brought wine," and struts away into the kitchen. 

 

* 

Once Ashley knows, keeping a secret from their friend seems dumb.

Next weekend a blowjob coerces Chris into another barbeque and as the night progresses he finds himself pressed hip to hip with Will in a lounge hair. He trusts people around them not to post photos or even mention it anywhere on the Internet. It’s weird but he couldn’t care less.

Will is fitting into his life so seamlessly and flawlessly that Chris can't keep track or take note of every single thing. He lives for that feeling of Will's arms around him, heavy, warm, steady; when he’s pulled into a tight hug at the end of a long day, the world doesn’t matter any more.

Will tells him his smile is beautiful. That his nose is cute. That his eyes are an unearthly color and that the planet that has those colors must be pretty fucking kick-ass to live on - and weirdly enough Chris starts to believe him and starts to see it in the mirror.

He knew that he wasn't bad looking, he's been told he is handsome and pretty and hot. Will though kisses that smile like he truly means it; he never shies away from looking into Chris' eyes, especially when Chris is studying his face, hopelessly searching for double meanings or insincerity just to stop the fall. He finds none.

 

*

Will can't stop thinking about Chris. Like a CD on repeat or the menu on a DVD that doesn't let you fall asleep. It's a haze where everything is colored with Chris Colfer. He’s attached to his phone as it’s the only way of being connected to Chris during the day.

Jane tags with him to lunch once and and tries to grill him for _juicy deets._ Will keeps his mouth shut, not ready to share Chris with anyone. He doesn’t want to post sappy pictures or take silly selfies. He wants to look at Chris, to talk to him, to laugh with him, to wake up with him. Will’s stomach flips just from thinking about it.

*

"Hey man, do you know how one actually gets on with cats?"

Cam makes a grimace and asks back, "How would I know? I'm self-sufficient, I don't need cats," he shudders.

"Yeah but," sighs Will, "Brian hates me."

"It's your boyfriend's cat, deal with it - bribe it or something-"

"I tried. And I don't have a boyfriend."

"You broke up?"

"Who broke up?" Sam's head appears out of the doorway.

"Chris and Will broke up."

"Oh man," Sam winces sympathetically, "I'm sorry..."

Will rolls his eyes and insists, "Chris is not my boyfriend."

"Yeah, man, we got it, you broke up --"

"No, we have never been boyfriends," states Will and watches his friends' expressions change from sympathetic to confused to exasperated. Sam's mouth twists into a sardonic grin, "I'm outta here," and the door shuts behind him.

"Wait, did you guys think we were dating?" stupidly says Will, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. 

Cam raises an eyebrow, " _Everyone_ thought you were dating."

"But we aren't," insists Will, ignoring the queasy feeling that comes when the words leave his mouth.

"That's fucked up, if you ask me," admits Cam and takes a gulp of his beer. 

"But I'm not asking your opinion on my relationship, I asked you about cats," points out Will.

"So it _is_ a relationship."

"Oh, fuck you," exclaims Will and stands up. "I'm gonna get another beer."

*

"Ashley will be here any minute," protests Will as Chris sucks small kisses on his chest, pulling away his shirt. The railing digs into his back and it's gonna be a nasty bruise but he's not about to push away this new uninhibited and urgent Chris with his hand pressing and gliding over Will's lower stomach.

"No, she won't. Her ten minutes mean half an hour," Will moans when Chris mouths at his nipple through the cotton. "Fuck, Will, just take your shirt off already and suck my dick."

Will likes giving blowjobs. He loves the sensation, the taste, the way it can be so different every time. So without a word Will crouches and hooks his fingers into Chris’ beltloops, pulling him closer. 

"Nuh-uh," Chris shakes his head. "Like this," and he steps around Will, lowering himself on one of the steps and parting his legs. "Come on, baby."

Will rushes forward, falling between Chris' legs and unzipping and - finally. He tugs Chris' hips forward until he is sitting at the edge of the step and licks across the throbbing vein on his dick. Chris moans, a littly breathy and shaky, and Will, wanting more of these sounds, keeps teasing. Will's tongue never stops moving as his fingers wrap around the base, matching its movement. 

He knows the teasing has gone on for too long when Chris' knuckles become white from holding onto the wood. Will sinks his mouth over him and bobs his head fast, sensing that Chris is going to come fast. He catches every single drop (they can’t leave a messy spot on the stairs, can they?) and stands up to lean forward over Chris. He kisses him, long and hot, letting Chris taste himself on the lips.

Chris reaches for Will's belt but he stops him. "Fuck me tonight?"

Chris fingers tighten around Will's nape and draw his head forward roughly, whispering in his ear, "Yeah."

 

"So, boys" says Ashley, petting Brian, "what have you been up to?"

Chris throws a quick glance at the staircase, the memory is still vivid in his mind. 

"Not much," shrugs Will. "Brian doesn't like me though, teach me how to befriend cats, thou art a wise lady."

"Dude, it's simple. Just bring him food," states Ashley with an eye-roll.

Will squats down beside Ashley and looks intently at Brian. It's really cute seeing Will worry about getting along with his cat.

"But Chris says we shouldn't - "

Ashley gives him a long look, "What Chris doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Chris is sitting right here," points out Chris, amused.

Ashley grins at him, "See, William? He isn't taking the treats or the keys to his house away from me, I bet you're safe, too. And," she winks, "you give him sex."

Chris notices Will's eyes momentarily flickering towards the staircase.

*

"I hate twitter," Chris throws his phone on the sofa and sits down heavily. Brian quickly leaps off the sofa and runs to the kitchen where Will is unpacking their paellas. He meows at him and flicks a tail in Chris' direction before disappearing behind the stairs. "Um, Chris, honey -" Will sticks his head out from the kitchen.

"I hate Internet."

Will squints at him. He sounds like he's just complaining but his eyes are squeezed shut and his hands are wrapped tightly around him. "Honey, what's wrong?" steps forward Will.

He hears Chris take a deep breath, "Just-," his eyes slowly open and peer at Will. He feels scrutinized and judged but doesn't flinch. "I really do hate twitter."

Will makes his way to the sofa and lowers himself beside Chris, not too close but not too far. He can feel tension radiating from Chris and no wonder Brian fled and covered. Will just focuses on Chris, ready to listen.

Instead Chris picks up his phone, types something and shoves it into Will's hands. Will scrolls through the mentions slowly. There are nice ones, lovely ones, occasionally - but mostly hate.

Chris starts rambling, "I swore to myself that I would stay away from twitter but I was bored and just clicked on the icon and- they tweet constantly and they are being so fucking awful..."

Will doesn't need to see more and closes the app, pushing the phone closer to the other edge of the sofa.

"Shh," whispers Will and slides an arm over Chris' back, hugging him into his side. "They are young and way too invested in a TV show," he says calmly.

"Like I don't realize that. It doesn't hurt less," snarks back Chris, trying to pull away.

Will tightens his arms around him and kisses the back of his head.

"How can you be so fucking calm? If they knew about you, they would be saying the same things to you," blurts out Chris and freezes, realizing what he's said.

Will swallows and pushes away the nagging thoughts that's been plaguing him since that night at Cam's.

“What they say doesn’t and shouldn’t have any effect on you or people in your life. Let’s eat and make fun of shitty reality TV instead,” says Will with a finality in his voice and presses a kiss to Chris' temple.

Chris looks up at him, searching his face for something. Will stares back openly. He doesn’t know what the other man sees, but finally, Chris stretches his neck and kisses Will firmly on the mouth, his lips twitching into a smile. "Thank you," he says softly, gazing into Will's eyes.

"You're welcome," whispers Will, drawing Chris back in the kiss.

Their lips move determinedly until Chris' stomach grumbles. Will's eyes fly open and he jumps from the sofa, skidding to the kitchen. "Paella is coming. I just need to warm it up, _again._ "

Chris follows him and sits at the counter, feet dangling back and forth, waiting for the microwave to beep, smiling at Will moving around his kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

"What exactly are we doing tonight, Colfer?" asks Ashley, scrunching her nose when Brian fights out of her hands and jumps down on the floor. "I imagine you have a very exciting thing for us to do since we are, you know, staying in. And it's better not be another Downton Abbey rewatch because as much as I love the show, I haven't yet reached Will's levels of tolerance for your obsessions, and I hope I never will."

Chris grins, "Oh, You're gonna love it. You've always wanted to do it."

"Are you gonna ask me for sex tips?" Chris shudders and shakes his head vigorously. "I doubt you'd need 'em though, people say Will is _very_ experienced," she winks and pats his shoulder. Chris turns away, feeling nauseous at grotesque images of Will and faceless men rumbling the dark sheets and coming across them in stark white streaks.

"Halloween costume," he forces out and places a big paper bag on the table, smiling tightly at her.

"Oooh," Ashley's attention immediately draws to the bag, "what are you going as?"she asks, peeking inside.

"Llama assassin, duh, I thought the whole world already knew," Chris reaches inside and pulls out glue and fake fur for the hooves.

"And what's Will gonna be? A llama-victim? And you're gonna kill him with your young body and endless stamina, like a succubus, drawing all his life through sex?"

"What?" Chris hopes his stare is judgmental enough, "I think you've read enough of fantasy novels. And I actually have no idea what he's going as. I should ask." He reaches for his phone and starts typing. 

"You guys ain't doing disgustingly sweet couple costumes?"asks Ashley, sounding surprised.

Chris puts down his phone after hitting send and gives her a long look. "Why would we?"

"Well, I figured you'd jump at the chance to do something like this."

"Yeah, I mean, abstractly, but we are not a couple," he shrugs, fiddling with the glue.

Ashley's eyebrows shoot up, "Oh please," she drawls, "I barely believed it a month ago when you sat on my couch apologizing profusely and throwing those quick glances at each other, and there is no fucking way I'm gonna believe it now," she shakes her head.

"We are not dating," insists Chris. "Besides, you told me that he wasn't ready for a relationship,"

"Oh for fuck's sake, he's well over whatever it was!” Chris looks up at her, astonished at the intensity of her tone. "And you, Colfer, snuggling with him during movie nights and fucking in empty bedrooms, is no better."

"We do not do that," protests Chris vehemently. "We’re not together. We're just friends... who have sex. Lots of sex," he reasons.

"Yeah, right," Ashley peers at him, growing serious. "Is it actually what you're tellin' yourself?"

"It's not what I'm telling myself, it's the truth," he argues, suddenly feeling confused and small under Ashley's gaze. 

It feels a lot like trying to convince himself.

"Oh god, you're too fucking stubborn," she rolls her eyes and rummages angrily in the bag, muttering, "How can the two smartest men I know be such idiots is beyond me." She rips the glue tube from Chris and quickly uncaps it, getting to work.

With a sigh he reaches for a boot when his phone vibrates. He picks it up instantly and rolling his eyes at Will's response ("why don't you come over and find out?"), types out an answer ("if you’re implying what I think you’re implying I don’t care. I've already seen you naked.")

When he lifts his head, he sees Ashley eyeing him with an exasperated look on her face. "What?" he asks tiredly.

"Nothing," she shrugs and suddenly smiles, all agitation gone, "That look you've just had on your face confirms everything, sweetie. I wish you two weren't so dumb though."

He widens his eyes at her and opens his mouth, an urge to prove his point stronger than his exhaustion. But his phone vibrates again and he grabs it eagerly, without thinking how it would look. She chuckles and resumes wrapping the flashlights.

Chris has half a mind to complain to Will but he reads the message and his thoughts turn into a different direction.

_Don't you wanna see me naked again? Why dontcha cum over 2nite, babe?_

_Pun intended_

*

"You're actually going naked?" Exclaims Chris in a high pitched voice.

"Almost naked," replies Will sheepishly and wraps a soothing arm around Chris' waist. "You can always come with, you know, and shield me with your body, if you're so worried about my virtue."

"I'm not worried about your virtue, you have none," quickly retorts Chris, standing up and letting Will's hand fall and busying himself with rinsing a cup.

He knows he's making a big deal of it. He fights hard not to show how conflicted and confused he feels but it gets out of him in jolts of snappy remarks throughout the night. Will doesn't call him out on it, but doesn't try to appease him either. 

Chris knows it's jealousy. He wishes he could be calm and collected, a marble statue of detachment - god knows, Will is already aware of far too many of his insecurities. But even though all the stabs his sarcasm is making at Will make Chris burn with embarrassment, he can’t stop. 

"You can always come with, you know," suggests Will out of blue.

"Yeah, right," huffs Chris, his face burning. "It'll be on the internet instantly."

Will rolls his eyes, "You can wear a mask or something."

"Yeah, right," repeats Chris dismissively and heads towards the door. "I should go. Early call time."

Will tightens his lips and bites out, "Goodbye," masking his move to stand up with reaching for a cup. 

Chris whirls around, letting himself out. He feels irrationally angry and as he climbs down the stairs, it is already dissipating, replaced with dread at an empty bed in his house and Brian who would sniff at him, demand food and walk off.

But when he shoves the keys into ignition, holding obstinately onto the last bits of anger, his phone vibrates with a new message, "Text me when you get home." 

Chris gives his reflection in the rear-view mirror a tiny smile.

*

Will tosses and turns, keeping his eyes squeezed shut, until his head hurts and his forehead feels like a giant wrinkle. He rolls on his back and stares into the ceiling. It's boring white - the same as the one at Chris' house but it doesn’t feel as repressive there. 

His phone chimed with a message from Chris ("Home, good night") a long time ago, yet Will still feels that pang of hurt at Chris walking away angry, and so jealous that the tension still lingered after he left. 

"This is crazy," he murmurs to the other pillow. It’s lying there silently. "I'm going mad."

He reaches for a phone and checks the time. 3am. He dials. It rings once, twice, he doesn't even put the phone up to his ear. _This is stupid._

"Will?" a gruff voice answers. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah." _Just wanted to hear your voice. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking._

"I knew I'd manage to transfer my sleepless curse onto you. That dancing naked in the moonlight and picking up your greying hair from my bed was worth it." 

"I’m laughing, you just can’t hear it - I'd watch your dancing in the moonlight though."

"We can make it a private show."

"Let’s do that."

 

*

Halloween activities fly fast for Will, and his 30th birthday is looming. It's funny considering that 5 years ago he was sure that by this time he would have around 1.5 kids, a husband (legally wedded in Canada or, if they save up enough money and manage not to spend it on internet shopping or gym memberships, in Europe) and maybe a real home, or at least an apartment in a decent neighbourhood. 

He definitely never imagined spending every night of the week preceding his 30th birthday in a bed of an overachieving 22-year old Hollywood actor, fucking his brains out before the said actor is set to have one of the most hectic months of the year.

Talk about stress relief. 

They've got plans for afterwards, for a much quiter December but it's still so far off. Sometimes Will can't imagine what life might look like to Chris - all planned and structured, carefully organized, not only by him but by the whole team of people. Will is certainly not like that, he's never been a planner. That’s probably why he's single.

When he mentions it to Sam, the man looks at Will like he's just grown a pair of bright green horns. 

"Dude, you're not really single. You've got Chris," he points out. "And you're the most organized out of us all.”

"That's not what I mean!"

Sam shakes his head and takes a bite of his burger. "You know, I just wanna eat this burger and get super drunk tonight. Can we maybe get back to your crisis later?"

Will sighs and nods, picking up his phone and scrolling through his message history with Chris. 

He's not in the place where he wanted to be at this time. Perhaps his priorities need some adjustment.

*

The next few weeks are a blur for Chris. They've got very dense filming schedule and then there are promotional strategies that need to be worked out, endless strings of meetings and pitches and he's trying to get some writing done. It's all too much and there's no one to take his mind off things. 

They knew it'd happen. They'd specifically spent lots of time together before because they knew they wouldn't have time. But Chris still hoped for some magic to weave its place into his life and give him some time with Will.

Because it's been ten days since he's seen him. They don't even text that much. Chris goes to Clovis for a few days when his family returns from the East Coast and it's just a few days but it's calm and nice and Chris uses the time to relax. It’s rare that he’s home and it’s not for holidays when his extended family gathers and demands attention and stories. He always ends up more exhausted after those. 

But this time it's different. He can cuddle with Hannah and watch cartoons with her. She can see right through him and she asks. He can't say that he's actually missing a guy he's been sleeping with for the past few months. His personal life is off limits even for them; he’s afraid of the questions and overthinking and hopes he knows he cannot let them have.

Karyn pointedly doesn't ask and just lets him have his time with Hannah, with the dogs and his computer. He tries to write something for TLOS2 but he's stuck. 

When he returns to LA, it's all about work. But he's got exciting stuff to film, he's got Whoopi and Being Alive and he actually feels it in his bones, this need to feel alive. Lea gets him his first ever cup of coffee and sensing that something is wrong drags him to a Streisand concert because she can and he needs it.

He cries at the end because of the sheer awesomeness and power and emotion, and it's all bubbling inside of him. He curls on his couch, Brian in his lap, and shoots a text to Will.

_Chris: What are you doing tonight?_

_Chris: Or tomorrow night?_

_Will: Already got plans, sorry._

_Will: Maybe some other time._

And Chris really doesn't know how to react to it. It's just ... strange. They've had some sort of a honeymoon, September, October, when all Chris thought about was Will and Will seemed to be the same. It’s all over now though and maybe it’s been long overdue.

They don't actually have any obligations to each other, they are not boyfriends, they are definitely not "future husbands" as Ashley used to think and maybe still thinks. They are just friends who have sex. 

Who _had_ sex. 

Who _were_ friends.

"Fuck," curses Chris and runs a hand through his hair. Brian meows and lifts his face towards him, yellow eyes questioning and a little angry at his nap being disturbed. "Sorry," he says sheepishly and Brian, as if understanding, purrs and climbs down, heading to the kitchen.

"Of course, you assume I'm gonna give you food if I say sorry."

Brian meows, whirling around his bowl. 

*

Will throws himself into work though the feeling of not being satisfied grows. It's not what he wants to do and he doesn’t enjoy it anymore. He's old enough to finally think of what he really wants and how he wants it. His job is not as challenging as it used to be, and his imagination starts to demand more time or else he feels like his head is about to explode.

He contemplates it for two weeks before tentatively mentioning it to his boss. Robert nods, understanding, and gives him until the end of the year to decide. 

He figures it's time and starts looking for something he might enjoy more. Suddenly he's got so much free time it's frightening and he spends it searching, writing and purposefully _not_ missing Chris.

They text at first. Then it just slowly ceases. Will's decision to stay away to figure out why he's not at the place he wanted to be, puts him off any real communication. 

It's hard to stay away though.

He dreams of Chris, and it's actually romantic in a silly way. He's never dreamt of a boy - a man - before. He's dreamt of sex, he's dreamt of dinosaurs and their love stories but he's never been the one to be _haunted_ by an image of a handsome man, laughing and spending days with him. He even misses Brian and wonders what the cat thinks about his absence or an absence of his smell on Chris. He probably rejoices that he doesn't have to stay away for hours from the bedroom.

Will actually googles Chris to see what he's up to. He knows about the book, of course, he's pre-ordered it a fuckload time ago, when he decided to learn more about Chris. And it made him want to know more, to feel more, to be there for Chris through ups and down, to be the one who puts a smile on that face.

These are dangerous thoughts that keep Will up at night. He's always been a sound and easy-to-fall-into-the-dreamland guy and now he can't stop thinking and if he finally falls asleep, it's all about Chris.

The google search results in photos and videos of Chris ice-skating which are being uploaded as Will looks through them. It's happening in New York, basically live, right now, and they are filming a performance - with Darren - and he checks Chris' twitter and on an impulse decides to follow him. 

He's sure Chris won't notice – his follower count is in millions and it's really fucking crazy, which makes Will think of the scope, of the importance ... His mind wanders a lot but it shouldn’t.

When it's already late in the NYC Will finds the guts to text Chris.

_W: Hi! How's New York?_

He sends it and immediately regrets, thinking that Chris is probably sleeping, exhausted, not really wanting to talk. But he receives a reply a few minutes later.

_C: Good but physically tiring. I'm done with ice-skates for this year._

_W: Luckily the year has barely 1,5 months to live._

_C: You make it sound so sad._

_W: *crying* It was a wonderful year though._

_C: Yeah it was. Lots of exciting things. And you._

_W: Yeah. You too._

_C: We haven't really talked for a while and I've got a full press day tomorrow. Can we hang out when I get back?_

_C: If you have time, of course..._

_W: Yeah, sure. Can't wait :)_

_C: Me too :)_

That stupid smile. Why did he put it at the end? Is it suggestive? berates himself Will. But it's done and he can't change it.

*

They easily go from not talking to fucking like no time has passed.

An awkward pause follows Will’s stepping inside the house and putting the food on the table but their dance to the bedroom, amid the furniture and meowing Brian, tongues fervently fighting each other, teeth clanking and gasping is far from clumsy.

They loose their clothes on the way to the bedroom and they keep mumbling endearments and encouragements, and Will's heart actually skips a beat when he distinctly hears Chris say, as he kisses down his chest, that he missed him. 

He stops breathing and just hearing those words leave Chris' lips is enough to bring him back to his mouth, pulling away only to whisper the same words back to Chris.

They come rutting against each other, neither eager to take time to prepare or to even pull apart to get condoms and lube. It's fast and hectic and Will feels emotions that he shouldn't, cannot express and he bites his lips in an effort to not flood Chris with them. 

Chris' hands wrap around his waist as Will collapses against him. He breathes heavily, his cheek pressed to Chris' neck. He kisses it sweetly and whispers brazenly, no longer disguising the words with passion, "I really missed you."

"Me too," says Chris softly and slides his hands over Will's back soothingly. "I really missed you too."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Will has never really believed it, but he finds out that it's true for cats. Suddenly Brian is nice to him and Will wonders what Chris made him do.

The other man just shrugs and says, "He does that sometimes."

Will eyes the cat warily and squats carefully, looking into his eyes. "I hope you aren't trying to play good and bad cop with me 'cause it wouldn't work." Brian simply stares back at him, unblinking. "Okay, whatever," dismisses him Will and follows Chris into the kitchen.

"You started talking about something in a car and got distracted - "

"Oh yeah," replies Chris and turns away from the fridge, bracing himself against it. "I was - um, I know it's sort of last minute but - do you wanna, like, go to Europe with me for New Years,” he says quickly. “And um, Ashley, and there are two more people -," he adds hastily, eyes pleading not to turn him down.

Will inhales shakily, "Yeah, yes, I'd like to."

"Oh, good," sighs Chris and gives him a toothy smile. "We can plan after we eat then, I've got some leftover Thai."

"Yes, good," replies Will, "sure," he adds and grinning at Chris goes to get plates.

*

"So what's up with you and Chris, man?" asks Cam as they settle at the table.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been mopey lately so I figured you two were having problems or something."

"I was _not_ mopey."

"Yeah, you were," declares Cam, putting a straw into his milkshake. "Very break-up mopey."

"We're not dating," insists Will, biting into his cupcake.

"Sure you aren't," replies Cam calmly. "'Cause you're a scared little shit."

Will frowns, "Why's that?"

Cam sighs, “Okay, I’m gonna tell you a thing and I want you to really think about it. Why _aren't_ you dating Chris? He's hot, he's smart, you like the same things and the sex is amazing."

Will plays with a sleeve of his jacket, "I'm not really looking for something serious."

"Bullshit."

"Okay,” tries again Will, “I don't think I've gotten over Steve."

"That's exactly why I said you're a scared little shit," points out Cam. "You're just afraid that it's not gonna work out."

Will shakes his head, "I am not. I'm just not ready." 

Cam rolls his eyes, but Will pretends not to notice and continues, making his voice sound steady, "Also, being involved with Chris is gonna be hard as fuck. You know, like, he's famous, he's got crazy fans - "

"Like that would stop you.” 

Will huffs, "I'm not scared. I'm being rational."

"You're being an idiot," mutters Cam. 

*

"Christopher, honey, do you have any food at the house?"

"Yes, mom, I do. Don't worry," replies Chris off-handedly, eyes focused on the road. Getting to spend another day with his family was nice but Chris’s had a busy month and he's _exhausted_. He just wants to sleep for days and maybe get a blowjob from Will for all his hard work. It'd be awesome.

But instead they pile into his car and drive around and then stumble into his house, Brian greets them, swirling between Hannah's legs, asking her to feed him and completely ignoring Chris.

"So it's like that, huh?"

Brian turns his head at him, sparing a glance, before purring as Hannah's hand smooths rumpled fur on his back.

Karyn busies herself with making dinner while Chris takes a shower and changes into his pajamas. He is helping to lay the table when the bell rings and his father gets up to answer the door. Chris doesn't give it a second thought because the whole situation is so much like the one at home, and he's in that head space where he's a kid and his parents are the ones in charge.

When Tim returns to the living room, followed by Will, Chris' mouth falls open and he blinks. Will is holding a bag from Chris' favourite bakery and his eyes are frantically looking around until they halt at Chris. He smiles sheepishly 

"This young man came to see you, son," says Tim formally and winks at Chris, before leaving the room instead of returning to his previous position on the couch. 

"Oh my god," breathes out Chris, mortified.

"I'm - fuck, Chris, I didn't know your parents were still here," explains Will, stepping forward. "I thought, um," and he lifts the bag, looking away, unusually at a loss for words.

Chris waits for the fear, for the nerves to kick in - Will has met his parents, the man he lo - sleeps with regularly - has met his father and there is no way he can kick him out without properly introducing him to everyone else, this is too deep, he's getting too deep - but there is none. No fear. No nerves. He feels a speck of embarrassment because his dad obviously realized that a man showing up at his door at this hour is likely to be more than a friend.

So instead he listens for a moment if there are approaching footsteps but there are none so he steps forward and quickly kisses Will on the mouth, uncurling the man’s fingers from the bag. "I'll take it into the kitchen," he says softly and wraps his hand around Will's wrist, tugging him into the hall. He lets go of it right before they enter the kitchen but Will's smile is already wider and he charms his parents and Hannah in a _oh my god, they probably like him more than me already._

Will talks, politely and openly, comments and compliments; he seems genuinely interested in Karyn's favourite cooking books and receipts, and when Chris throws him an inquiring look, Will shrugs and says that his sister talks a lot about that. 

Hannah doesn't leave his side until she is so tired that she has to go to bed.

They keep chatting for some time, Will being an entertainer and an avid participant. Chris though has a really disturbing conversation with himself, worrying about where Will would sleep because if he were to go back to Ventura he should have left at least two hours ago. 

Finally, his parents say it's time to retire for a day and Karyn pats Will's knee gently when she gets up and says, "See you in the morning, boys," before climbing up the stairs. 

Chris feels Will's widening eyes at him. "Did she say boys? As in, plural from boy?"

"Yeah," replies Chris and tenses, "What, do you have a prob -"

"No, no," Will quickly reassures him, "I was just - you know, thought that um, I'm going back to Ventura since - and, I mean, if you're comfortable -"

"I am," says Chris firmly. 

"Okay."

They go upstairs with at least three feet between them and stubbornly keep this distance when they are brushing their teeth, trying to maneuvre around the bathroom. 

"We're like two boys confused about their sexuality at a high-school sleepover," comments Will as he slides off his pants.

"And when we finally lay down, still and afraid of taking a breath, our hands brush and we kiss shyly until we feel the forbidden desire and spring away, pretending nothing happened."

Will grins. "Had much experience?"

"No," huffs Chris, "I had a _girlfriend_ in high school. Kissing seemed mundane and overrated. I won’t even mention hand-brushing."

Will reaches over to grab Chris' hand. "What about now? Does hand-holding make you think dirty?" he dips down and drop small kisses all over Chris' collarbone.

Chris slaps his bicep, "It makes me think about my parents three walls away, dumbass."

Will grabs him by the waist and throws him down on the bed. "Ouch!" exclaims Chris, and as hard as he tries he can't stifle his laugh that bubbles out of him.

He rises on the elbows and lets his legs fall slightly apart. 

Will climbs onto the bed and leans over, knees between Chris'. His hands are bracketed around Chris' face and he presses his body down, sucking Chris' moan and his lips into his mouth.

Chris raises his hips and drags his hands over Will's white T-shirt and his dark green briefs before slipping under them and cupping his ass. Will groans and rubs against Chris' hip.

But then he rolls off and tugs the blankets from under Chris. "Your parents are three walls away, remember?"

Chris sighs and lets Will tuck them in. They lie facing each other, further away than usual, and Will purposefully drags the back of his hand against Chris’. 

"Dork!" laughs Chris and crosses the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Will. "Good night.”

"Good night, baby," replies Will in his smiling voice.

 

*

 

Breathless, Will flops into his seat after pushing their carry-on bags into an overhead compartment, and grins at Chris. "Hey, you."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Hey."

He leans in, still a respectable and appropriate distance away, and says just above a whisper, in that deep rough voice "Wanna fuck in the bathroom?"

Chris gulps and his eyes are drawn to Will's tongue, darting out and licking his lips. 

"Hey boooys," Ashley stops right beside them, breaking Chris' concentration. "Don't be _too_ nice. We've got a long flight."

Will smirks at her, "We're always just the right amount of nice, and y'know it."

Ashley rolls her eyes and scoffs. "I'm gonna be watching you two."

"And you're probably gonna enjoy it," jokes Chris, putting a hand on Will's thigh for a show. 

She stalks off and Chris quickly lifts off his hand, looking around. "Don't worry, no one was paying attention to us," reassures him Will.

Chris smiles tightly. "I don' t think I can stop worrying until we leave the continent and land in London - "

"And there's the royal police waiting with a limo to escort you to the Westminster Abbey to dine with your long lost family of great Indians -"

Chris bursts out laughing. "Yeah, right, we'll probably be waiting for our bags and then we'll be frantically looking for a car that's supposed to take us to the hotel,  
where we'll have to eat with other tired tourists like us."

"Or we can order room service," wiggles his eyebrows Will.

"Your mind is _really_ in the gutter today."

"What can I say, you look supremely hot."

They talk some more before the usual travel-induced sleepiness takes over and they keep dozing off, trying to read and listen to music. Will can feel Chris' body relaxing against his as the number of miles grow on the screen that shows their plane's itinerary. They lift the handle between them and sit in what can be called an almost-snuggle because Chris still doesn't dare to lean in with his full weight.

Will looks out of the window (they have an arrangement, on their way back he's going to be the one with an aisle seat) and realizes that he's also feeling a little bit more free. As of December, 25, William Sherrod no longer has a job. He's got a writing thing lined up, with some friends who are thinking about doing web series and if he finishes the script he talked about to Robert in the next three months they can make it happen. 

It's a new year and a new life. And a new continent. Will can't possibly be more excited about it than Chris ( _no one_ is more excited than Chris) but he feels invigorated and daring and -

"You're thinking so hard I woke up, Will," says Chris in that adorably sleepy voice of his. 

"Doubt that. You probably decided you wanted a piece of that ass," says Will and wiggles in his seat. 

Chris rolls his eyes and squeezes Will's hand. "Thanks for coming with me."

Will smiles widely at him and after his eyes dart around, leans down and quickly kisses Chris. 

"Don't change the topic. So what about that ass?"

*

They start celebrating New Year's Eve way too early. It's hard not to when all of the Paris seems perpetually drunk and partying. Ashley has a friend who moved to France two years ago and he meets them on the 30th and drags them to a gay bar where they get buzzed and make out in the bathroom. 

Seeing Chris so happy and so _free_ does something to Will and his usually unwavering resolve. He feels bold: catching Chris' wrist and twirling him around before pressing his front to his back is easier when everyone around speaks the language none of them understand. 

Back in the hotel room Chris covers his body with languid kisses and they fuck slowly, gasping into the night while people on the street sing Christmas songs and talk so loudly that they can hear them with a half of the window ajar.

They spend the day wandering and buying souvenirs for people at home, leaving a wine shop giggling and holding onto each other. When it gets dark the two of them sneak away from the group to the Eiffel Tower and kiss underneath like so many other people do. The place practically vibrates with love, and Will steps up to Chris, winding his arms around his waist. Chris places a hand on Will's cheek and softly kisses his mouth. 

They are just one of many but it feels like they are the only ones in the world. Will pulls away, overwhelmed and can't make himself look into Chris' eyes. He tugs at his hand and they walk back to the hotel to get ready for tonight's festivities.   
*

Will doesn't understand how anyone can _not_ recognize Chris' profile, mask or no mask. Or maybe Will just knows Chris' body too well. 

Their stay in Paris was relatively fan-free and Will thinks they can thank the holiday buzz for it. By the time the midnight rolls everyone around them is so drunk no one stands straight. They are not an exception. Chris' arms are bracketing him against the farthest and darkest part of the counter, and they quietly gaze at each other, whispering nonsense and exchanging eskimo kisses. The crowd cheers and starts counting. 

Dix. 

Neuf.

Huit. 

"I want you," whispers Chris, pressing his half hard dick against Will's thigh.

Sept.

"Let's go back to the room after -"

Six.

" - the clock strikes."

Cinq.

"Hmm," responds Chris and licks his lips.

Quatre.

Will licks his.

Trois. People get louder.

Deux.

Chris sucks Will's lower lip into his mouth, hands digging into his waist.

Un. 

The bar erupts into cheers.

*

Back in the hotel room they undress in a hurry, but their movements are sloppy and they end up falling across the bed laughing when Chris' jeans get stuck. Will's shirt is half-unbuttoned and he raises on his elbow to stare at Chris once the last chuckles are out of the way. 

Chris surges up and captures his lips in a hot kiss. It's slower and this time they manage to get rid of the clothes, revelling at the uncovered skin. 

"I want you so much," repeats Chris his words from earlier, frantically rutting against Will.

"I want you too," replies Will licking across his collarbone. "I want you all the time, I think about you all the time - god!" he moans, pressing his hips down and slotting their cocks against each other. 

"I think about you all the time, too," Chris opens his eyes and looks into Will's. He sounds much more sober and serious when he says, "I don't know what to do about it. And I'm not sure if I _want_ to do anything about it." 

Will stops and tries to clear his brain from the alcohol haze to get to what Chris is saying.

"I like thinking about you all the time."

And Will takes a deep breath, gets ready and... "Date me."

Will hears Chris' sharp intake of breath before he replies quietly, "Okay." 

They stare at each other for what feels like hours. And then Will lowers his head to press their mouths together again. They move deliberately and slowly, testing. Will wraps a hand around their cocks and starts jerking off. Chris' eyes never leave his face, intent and unreadable in the dark. He arches into Will's hand, thrusting and pulling him closer.

Will feels Chris' body tightening and his muscles tensing and he speeds up, bending down and licking into Chris' mouth. They come seconds later all over each other, breathing heavily and feeling light-headed. 

The loud French words from outside reach his ears and he hears the fireworks blowing up somewhere in the city. Reality reappears. The room gets lighter, illuminated by the street light outside. Chris' hand finds his, buried somewhere in the sheet, and his fingers trace circles on his palm.

Will never needs to fill the silence with Chris but he knows he has to say it aloud, to make sure it's real, that it’s out there, that it’s _true._

He rolls onto his side and gazes into Chris' eyes. "Bonne année, boyfriend," he says and it feels fake and tense and so obviously purposely. His heart skips a beat and he knows he must have imagined it -

"Happy New Year, _boyfriend_ ," murmurs Chris and dazes him with a toothy smile.

Will chuckles, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "We're so dumb," comments Chris, unfazed, and reaches for paper towels on the nightstand.

"We are," agrees Will and helps Chris clean them up. They kiss, sweet and familiar, and drag the blankets over them. 

Tired from doing tourist things all day, from walking and from the emotional rollercoaster that this night has been Will falls asleep fast. He doesn't know if Chris stays awake as he sometimes does, musing and contemplating, but he never feels Chris' arms leave him. 

In the morning Chris grins at him cheekily and throws a casual, "I can't eat my first breakfast of this year without my boyfriend, can I?"

And Will's eyes widen and the last drowsiness leaves him. "No you can't," he replies hurriedly and jumps into the shower, getting ready for their last day in Paris as _boyfriends_.

Paris is officially the best city in the world.


	11. Epilogue

Chris settles down in the plushy chair, smiling at the host. Now that the book is out and the biggest chunk of promotion is over he can relax a little and maybe not think so hard about answering the questions (especially since he's rehearsed the answers to them too many times already).

They talk about the book, the looming end of Glee, his cat and it's so typical, with an occasional dirty joke until -

Really, he should have predicted it. This is the question she usually asks, she just cannot forgo his (or anyone else's) personal life in an interview. But Chris almost chokes on the the diet coke - 

"Any hot gays in the wings? Ready to hump, and dump, and vamp?"

_The cup is so fucking fascinating, how come I've never noticed it?_

He's dodged that question lots of times. He's worked out a strategy where the question is so unlikely to spring that he doesn't really need to worry anymore. _Didn't_ need to worry.

He knows his eyes are down for far too long and he’s blushing. But all he sees is a shocked Will when he returns home from work, tired and sweaty, just to learn that his boyfriend (even though lately this term has become so mundane that Chris considers changing the status, and surprisingly it doesn't scare him at all) has just announced to the world that -

"Yeah, there is some humping in the wings," jokes back Chris, lifting his eyes, daring.

"Ooh," he can see the surprise in her eyes. She obviously expected him to find a way out, like he usually does. "A hunky boyfriend who puts up with your schedule?" she asks without a usual snark, still a little off-balance.

Chris laughs because recently he's been the one putting up with the schedule, "Yeah, you can say that. Very hunky though," he replies proudly, tilting his head and putting on a dreamy expression.

"Good for you," she leans forward and pats his knee. He nods at her, indicating that it's fine, and they talk about the movie for a minute and then they are done.

Chris slumps in the chair, grinning. He can't believe he's just done it but it feels awesome. He can't wait for Will to get home.

*

"What did you do?" demands Will instead of his usual greeting, stomping into the bedroom. "My phone has been going off all night with very cryptic texts from our weird friends with all kinds of variations they could come up with _congratulations on being hunky._ " 

"Why do you think it was me?" Chris grins innocently, "Maybe they finally realized how fucking hunky you are."

"Oh shut up," sighs Will without any heat, taking off his pants and throwing them in the general direction of the chair. "On the weekend we're getting into the hot tub and soaking all day there. And we are not inviting anyone."

Chris looks at him sympathetically over glasses and says, "If you shower quickly, I might still have some energy for a blow job." 

Will's eyes glint a little but quickly dim. "It's gonna sound terrible - anything but a bed with sleep in it doesn't sound too good. Even a blowjob. From you," he scrunches his face and heads to the bathroom.

Chris calls out, chuckling, "You know, it sounded like you were getting bjs from someone else, too."

Will doesn't even bother to reply but 15 minutes later he emerges from the bathroom in a towel, the lines of his face and his posture easier and relaxed but bags under his eyes nonetheless visible. He puts on pajamas and climbs into the bed next to Chris. 

"Kiss me before I fall into dreamless coma."

Chris puts his laptop away and slides down to close his lips over Will's mouth. It's nice and slow, and he can actually feel Will sagging underneath him, his body becoming one with the mattress, and when he pulls away, Will doesn't even open his eyes, turning onto his side and mumbling something that sounds like, "Luv ya, babe," but maybe Chris can only recognize it because that's what Will tells him every night.

*

Chris spends most of the night writing, and when he occasionally returns to the real world from the realm of his imagination, he listens to Will's calm breathing and it grounds him and dissipates the fear that he still feels sometimes.

He closes his laptop some time after four and wiggles into Will's arms that immediately wrap around him. 

But what feels like a moment later he is woken up by a loud screech and something big flopping on the bed beside him.

"Fuck!" he hears Will mutter and almost feels his boyfriend's eyes boring into his face.

He feigns still being asleep, and it stretches for some time and finally Chris can't hold his grin anymore and with eyes still closed he lets out a chuckle. 

Will straddles him and reaches a hand underneath his shirt but Chris is faster. He flips them and then he's the one hovering over Will, his hands trickling over the exposed skin where his shirt rode up. 

"I wanted to tickle punish you," breathes Will, smiling widely, wrapping his arms around Chris.

"I know," grins Chris, waiting patiently, staring at his boyfriend.

Will looks back, searching his eyes, undoubtedly, for any sign of regret or confusion. "You could have at least told me in advance," he says finally.

"I didn't plan on it."

Will's eyebrows shoot up, "Oh."

"It felt weird to lie and I couldn't bring myself to say something cryptic and -" 

"I know," assures him Will. Chris smiles at him gratefully."You know I don't care about these things. It's your world, walk through it at your own speed."

"Thanks," Chris kisses his cheek and rolls off of him. "Sleep?" he asks hopefully, snuggling into Will's side.

"Breakfast in bed?" he counters.

"I sleep, you make breakfast," says Chris matter-of-factly, biting his lip to keep from smiling.

Will rolls his eyes and ruffles Chris' hair, tucking him into the blanket. "My sleeping beauty, I'm gonna wake you up with a kiss," and he dips down for a smooch.

"Ew," Chris pushes him away, "wake me up with a big omelette with bacon and tomatoes, please."

Will grins, "As you wish, your majesty," and slides off the bed, strutting out of the door.

Chris rolls onto Will's side of the bed, burying his face into his pillow and drags the blanket over his head, leaving only the top of his head sticking out. He feels giddy and light, and he lets little giggles escape and curls into the bed more. It smells like Will and _home._ His eyes close and he breathes in the familiar scent calmly, already imagining their weekend: leisuring around the house, making out in a hot tub and if he can possibly make a convincing argument of having sex there tonight even though their friends are probably going to barge in tomorrow and hang out in it. And he falls asleep, feeling incredibly happy.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's read, waited and left those lovely message in my askbox.  
> <3333


End file.
